Of course he wanted to hear it. How could he not? “Yes.”
Gertie tilted her head to the side. “She’s showing me that you work with . . . little things. Little things you build. You . . .” She tapped her fingertips together. “You make them? You . . . you make things on a computer, but she’s showing me a hospital, too.”
“He’s a medical device engineer,” Ben blurted. Josh didn’t even care that he told. Gertie was close enough.
“That’s it! That’s her way of making sure you know she’s really here. She’s proud of you, Josh. Very proud. You two were wicked happy.”
“Yes. Yes,” he said, his breath coming hard. “Look. I know she loved me and her sister and the kids, and I know what I do for a living. But . . .” His voice broke. “Does she have anything to say to me?” He rubbed his forehead hard and tried not to look at Ben, for fear he’d start sobbing. “Something for now?”
Gertie stared at the floor again. “She wants you to know she’s not alone. Her grandfather? No, her father? Did her father pass? Yeah? They’re together. She’s a beautiful soul, your wife. She laughs a lot. She’s happy.”
Good. Good. He only ever wanted her to be happy.
His heart cracked just the same.
“Okay . . . yep. Yep. She says you’ll get married again. She’s pointing to her ring fingah, then showing me the number two. Your second wife. You already know her, but you don’t . . . you’re not aware that she’s gonna be important in your life.” Gertie laughed. “She’s showing me a penny and droppin’ it. Like, the coin hasn’t dropped for you yet regardin’ this woman.”
“Sarah, maybe?” Ben murmured. Josh heard the words, but they didn’t register.
Gertie tilted her head again. “You blame yourself, she says. But you were wonderful! She’s showing me over and over again how good you were, how you took care of her. She wants you to stop feeling guilty. You couldn’t have done any more. She’s tellin’ me you were perfect. Drop the guilt.”
That was a message mediums often gave their clients, Josh had read. It also happened to be completely appropriate to his case.
He took a tissue and wiped his eyes. Gertie smiled at the floor. “So much love between you two,” she said.
The pain in his chest was crushing. Please come back, he couldn’t help thinking. Please come back.
“She gives you signs, Josh. You aren’t seeing them. She wants you to see the signs.”
He nodded.
Then Gertie turned to Ben. “You’re not his father, but she says you’re like one, and she thanks you for bein’ there for Josh.”
Ben’s stoicism crumpled, and he put his hand over his eyes. Gertie patted his arm. “She’s showing me a paper airplane? You’re throwing it? Did you make paper airplanes together, you and Josh?”
Ben nodded, his shoulders shaking.
“And there’s another woman she’s showing me. Like a sister, but not. Purple sparkly dresses . . . did they take dance class together? Something with dancing. She wants you to tell her she’s with her. She’s strugglin’, too, the not-sister. Best friend, that’s it. Her best friend.”
Sarah. He’d have to call Sarah. This would mean the world to her.
Gertie nodded. “Okay, she’s stepping back. She wants you to be at ease, to be happy, to know you’ll be together again in the next life.” She was quiet for a minute, then blew out the candle and looked at the two men. “Hoo! That was a good one, I think! Don’t you?”
Josh wrote her a check for $500. She hugged him hard, and then hugged Ben, and they left, not speaking. He drove to the end of the road to turn around; it was a dead end, facing the water. But he just sat there a minute, his hands shaking.
“You okay, son?” Ben asked.
He looked out at the bay, the water sparkling in slices of blue and silver under a sky heavy with creamy cumulus clouds.
“It was shocking,” he said.
“Yeah. Very specific.”
His hands were choking the steering wheel. “The thing is,” he continued, “does it make any difference? She’s still gone. What good does this do? Does it change anything? Do I go back every week?”
“I think . . . I think it’s just nice to believe she’s not a hundred percent gone.”
“She’s gone enough. I don’t want signs. I want her.” His throat was killing him, and he dashed his hand across his eyes. “Sumi said you have a church thing tonight. I’ll get you back.”
“Josh, if you want to talk more, son . . .”
“No. I’m fine.”
They drove back to Providence in silence. A thunderstorm rolled in, and when they pulled up onto his old street, Ben asked if he wanted to come in. Josh refused, thanked Ben, gave him a quick hug and then called Sarah. “Can I come over?” he asked, even though he was already headed her way.
She said yes.
She opened the door a few minutes later, wearing a David Bowie T-shirt and running shorts. Her apartment was somewhat untidy and unremarkable—piles of papers on her desk, a few coffee cups scattered about, mail on the counter.
“Hey, Josh,” she said. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“I saw a psychic today,” he said without preamble. “She said Lauren showed her a person who wasn’t a sister but like a sister. Purple sparkly dresses at a dance recital or something.”
The color drained from Sarah’s face. “Jesus, Josh. A little warning next time?” Then she turned away. When she spoke next, it was a whisper. “It was the eighth-grade talent show. We wore purple sparkly dresses and danced to Soulja Boy. ‘Crank That.’ We were awesome.” She took a shaky breath. “The psychic knew that?”
“Apparently. She said to tell you Lauren is still . . . with you.”
Sarah put both hands over her face and started to sob.
Hug her.
He did. She hugged him back. He felt something loosen inside him and, after a few seconds, became aware of the fact that he was crying, too.
It wasn’t horrible.
In fact, it felt kind of great, just to cry with someone who had loved Lauren, too, and not worry, just for a second, if he should be doing something different. No. Hugging was . . . it was okay.
“Oh, Josh,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for the two of us.”
The thunderclap took them by surprise, and they jumped apart. Josh straightened, wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Sarah got a tissue and blew her nose.